The Last Stand of Redwall Abbey
by ZaranR
Summary: The day will come when the abbey falls, a dear of a price for these old walls; Countless seasons the abbey spanned, one season will be the last stand...
1. Prologue

Amidst the blowing snow being thrown left and right by the ever howling wind, among the dark bruised clouds slowly gliding over the landscape, a traveler comes down the path and stops to behold the sight she see's. A darkened red stoned structure old beyond belief, and empty with the chill whisper of loneliness. She goes through the mighty gates that are almost off their rusty hinges and goes inside the buildings' ground. She sees a pond frozen, trees willy nilly all over in their winter sleep, and a another building which she goes into.

As she explores, she senses that another creature is following her and tenses herself to turn and confront the sneaky follower. Then she stops suddenly, turn, and pounces. As she lands, she suddenly panics as the creature that was following her was only a dormouse, an old one at that, but with battle scars tracing his frame. She gets up and starts to check to make sure that the dormouse wasn't hurt. As the old one stirs, the traveler makes a fire out of random pieces of wood she finds here and there. When the dormouse is fully awake, the traveler than takes off her pack and makes a meal for both of them.

As she is cooking, the traveler asks,

"Who are you and why do you stay in this deserted place?"  
The dormouse takes a bit to find his words,

"My name is Taegan and I stay at this deserted place because I was once Abbot of it."  
"Abbot of what?"  
"Redwall Abbey"

The traveler's jaw dropped visually

"You're telling me that this old ruin was once the famous Abbey of Redwall?"  
"That is correct"  
"What happened to it?"

The dormouse smiled sadly,

"That is a story I am well acquainted with, so prepare some food and drinks, it's a long story"


	2. Chapter 1

They say that he came from the far reaches of the Earth, some say he comes out the Hellgates, but no one can dispute that Zan Shear was the most evil, most frightening leader ever spawned. In his early middle seasons, he was handsome in a cold chilling way, a smile that spelled death, and a face that was seemingly innocent. His eyes were the color of dark olive, piercing, calculating. He led an army that no one has seen since the Blue Hordes of Ungatt Trunn. With this army, he slowly took over the country. He took over the Northern area, the Highlands and the Border, first. He soon after took over the Eastern coast and slowly spread his way across to the West coast. After all the conquests were finished he led his army into the fringes of Mossflower Woods with intent to take over the middle country before going south.

________________________________________________________________________

Abbot Taegan was a young mouse, only into his teen seasons, yet no one can deny that he held the wisdom of a beast thrice his age and held himself up with all the dignity that a Redwall abbot has. But he was at his wit's end.

With news that Zan was moving south, creatures from all over who came seeking shelter,even Redwall Abbey was reaching its maximum capacity. He was besieged on all sides with problems of not enough bedding, rationing food, and stealing from some of the more questionable guests. He discussed his problems with his lifelong friend, Skipper Raynor.

"What should we do about all these creatures, we can't possibly shelter them forever, we are already running out of food, even though we are rationing. The only good thing is that we have no shortage of warriors that are willing to fight to defend the abbey, but still, we have too many creatures and it is really taxing our supplies just to feed them."

Skipper Raynor thinks for a moment

"Well, we can't just turn them loose out into Mossflower Woods, with its danger at night and Zan's advancing horde neither can we send them all traipizing off to Salamandastrom, I doubt Lord Oakeye's would be very pleased with hundreds of creatures knocking at his door, mate. That is the last thing I would want to do only if Redwall is going to fall."

He chuckled humorlessly

"For untold seasons has Redwall Abbey stood, now we are facing a horde that can literally destroy Redwall within a fortnight, dame fortune is cruel, mate."

As they walked across the abbey lawns, the main gates were being opened by various creatures and Frey the Recorder passed by and said,

"New guests Father Abbot, Skipper. A band of squirrels and otters from the Northwest have just arrived, some wounded."

Taegan nodded

"See to it that they are tended for their hurts and if they want, they may draw rations from Friar Kerr."  
"As you wish Father Abbot"

As Taegan and Skipper walk to the gates to meet the new group their leader, a pretty sable furred otter lady, breaks off and voiced her thanks,

"G'day Father Abbot, my name is Adena Riverlough, Holt of Tungsten, on behalf of creatures, I would like to say thanks for admitting us even though your hospitality must be strained I imagine. I bring five score fit fighting beasts to your disposal; they will fight to the death against Zan and his horde."

As she was speaking, Skipper Raynor couldn't take his eyes off of her, she was the most beautiful otter he had ever seen. With her glossy dark fur, almond shaped eyes and the lean muscles customary to otters.

"Well what do you think Skipper?"

Raynor shook himself out of his stupor,

"Er...what did you say Father?"

"I said that do you think we can support one more group or do we have to start turning them south towards Salamandastron?"

"Of course they can stay, mate"

Then he went back to staring at Adena who was now staring at him with similar intensity. Abbot Taegan smoothly slipped away, leaving the two otters together.

"I'll let you two talk together for a while"

After he left, Adena gave a little giggle, and then suddenly both of them burst out laughing like Dibbuns who escaped bath time. Skipper was first to contain his merriment and asked,

"Would you like a tour of Redwall Abbey?"

"Yes, I would like to see more of the famed abbey and if the stories are right, Redwall has the best food around."

Both of them walked together around the abbey discussing their families to the current situation to strategies. By night time, both were inseparable. As they walked back to the main abbey building, a Guosim shrew passed them by and informed them,

"Council of War is going to be held in Cavern Hole, all leaders are required to come"

Adena and Raynor nodded their thanks and walked to Cavern Hole.


	3. Chapter 2

As they arrived, the Council had just started the main speaker a squirrel from Scouts. A group of watchers created by the Abbot to watch for Zan and his horde. At last the squirrel spoke,

"I was patrolling around the Western fringes of Mossflower y'see and thats when I saw them. Zan's horde camping by the river that runs out to sea. The bad news is that they are five days hence from reaching the Abbey. Good news is that the lot of them looked starved, only the officers seemed well-fed. So there is a potential that Zan's army would starve as they march for Redwall. Saw no sign of Zan though, which worries me, he's a crafty one that Zan, intelligent and detailed."

With that, the scout bowed and excused herself. Cavern Hole was suddenly filled with the chatter of the leaders, and on what to do.

Order was restored when the leader of the Guosim, Logalog Caseb, roared out in bass voice,

"Everyone, shut your mouths and lets hear some suggestions about what to do, Father Abbot, you have the floor"

Abbot Taegan struggled for a moment to find his words

"I am still young and there is much I have not yet to experience, war is one those things I wished to never know, but as that maybe, there are no beasts more capable in this than the creatures who sit in this room. I am still learning so I leave the Abbey's defense in your hands friends. Skipper."

Raynor nodded and spoke,

"Righto mates, first things first, how are we going to protect this abbey?"

A hedgehog, driven from his home by Zan, spoke up,

"We could always lay traps all around the the woodlands, that might kill some vermin and buy us more time to fortify our defenses."

More suggestions soon came after, every beast talking at once,

"We could dig pits and line them with sharp stakes!"

"Triplines, mate. Nothing but triplines and rope traps"

"How about the old seesaw log? Step on one end, the other comes up and belts them across the head."

"You foogle, that works only if they are going through water, they are probably going to be on the path as it is more direct."

"Foogle yourself you bottlenose, they could be traveling through the shallows!"

"Boi okey, oi, say we cumm out and give them sum billyoh!"

"We can't they outnumber out like ten to one, we'd get slaughtered!"

Order was once again restored by Logalog Caseb,

"Will you lot SHUT UP?" Please."

In the following silence Foremole Redlin, leader of the Redwall moles, offered some of his mole logic,

"What abowt the h'nfants, elders, and, mothers? Oi say'ee showld send em to salad-anna-sconn furr safety bo urr aye"

Then a mouse, one of the woodland evacuee's shouted, "What's salad-anna-sconn? Whatever it is, it's making me hungry!"

As the room burst into laughter, Taegan interrupted and said,

"Foremole Redlin means Salamandastrom, and I for one think its a great idea, we must get all those not who can't fight to safety first before Zan's hordes get here. It would not bode well for our conscience if a babe or a nursing mother got killed or injured when the fighting starts."

Logalog Caseb shouted,

"I h'always says you can't beat mole logic"


	4. Chapter 3

In the Western fringes of Mossflower, the sun was setting. With the rays getting lower and redder, they basked the sky in a billiant shade of purple streaked with red-orange tails, chasing away the gray night clouds like woodpiegons. All this was lost on Zan Shear who was was faced with two problems every leader faced. An army cannot march on an empty stomach and dissenters who are looking for ways to seize control. A cross between a pine marten and a ferret, Zan was a highly intelligent and calculating leader. Unlike the rest of his mighty army, Zan was only dressed simply for a leader. Chain mail, helmet, and his belt of throwing knives. His knives and fighting skills were the reason of why he stood as leader of the innumerable horde. He could throw a knife so fast and so accurately that he can pin a humming bird through its neck.

Scragfur, one of his weasel captains came up to him, saluted with his spear, and made his report.

"Fourteen more dead from starvation chief, they are starting to eat the dead to just keep alive. I recommend that we------"

_shhhhhhhhthunk_

With Scragfur writhing in agony on the ground, paws shaking over where a quarter of his cheek once was , Zan took his blade from the tree and cleaned it meticulously while slowly explaining to Scragfur,

"I do not want to hear reports of the dead being eaten and I certainly don't want to hear your cretinous suggestions about what to do. I only want to know how long before we reach Redwall and how long it will take after to reach Salamandastrom, captain. Now if you are done whimpering like a babe, get out of my sight or you will lose a eye next. Understood Scragfur?"

Pulling himself off the ground, Scragfur sobbed out,

"Un-understood ch-chief. W-we will r-reach Redwall in five d-days."

As he left, he stooped down to pick up his flap of cheek off the ground and stumbled out of his chieftain's sight.

Zan took off his helmet and rubbed his brow,

"Why must this conquest of the country be made more difficult by idiotic captains?"

He gave a irritated sigh and put on his helmet and strode out to the front of his army. His various captains gathered around him for orders.

"Tell everyone to get up and get moving. We continue to march east"

As the captains bawled out his orders to the rank and file, scouts were sent ahead to get the lay of the land. He stood by one side and watched as the drums of his army beat the pace of the march. He smiled inwardly; fear was a great motivator, get moving or stop living.

________________________________________________________________________

In the early hours before daybreak, Redwall was bustling with activity, the inhabitants were preparing for the journey to Salamandastrom. Moles and other woodland creatures were trundling through the maingate to rig Mossflower woods. Amidst all this activity, Abbot Taegan, who was in the Great Hall, took a moment to stop and stare at the tapestry of Martin the Warrior. He often did this to wonder what would Martin do in his place.

"Martin, for countless seasons has this abbey stood, for countless seasons we have defended ourselves when we need to. I fear the abbey will fall when Zan's hordes break upon us. How do we stop a army that has taken over half the country?. The only things standing between us and domination is Redwall Abbey and Salamandastrom. Martin, if we do fall, keep our travelers safe and happy for seasons to come."

Abbot Taegan then stared at the sword that was once wielded by the legendary mouse. A thing of legends itself was, forged from the metal of a falling star, light as a feather, sturdy as a oak tree. It's double edged blade was keen as any razor and shone like the whitest fire. Then acting on a impulse, he picked up the blade from its silver double pegs and thrust it into its scabbard.

Abbot Taegan then went outside to the abbey grounds to view the processions. He saw sadly that families with warriors staying behind were tearfully hugging each other, bidding each other good luck. Dibbuns were being chased by their parents, intent to keep their charges still and packs upon packs of necessities were piled by the pond. Accompanying them were eight score warriors who would lay down their lives for the protection of the group. Also in the group he saw Adena Riverlough with Skipper Raynor, she was resting her head on his shoulder and both had sad expressions. Taegan marveled at the fondness both otters had for each other after such as short period of time together and did not wish to separate them. He went up to them and spoke with Skipper,

"Our friends are embarking on a rather risky adventure, they will need all the help they can get Skip."

Skipper agreed, "Aye, 'tis goin' to be a long and hard journey especially if its t' Salamandastron, mate. I estimate that they will get there next season, maybe a bit shorter if th' Guosim lend us their boats."

Taegan asked,

"Do you want to go with them?"

"Aye, especially if most o' them had never been to Salamandastron, but the Abbey still needs defending, mate."

The Abbot beamed,

"Since you put it in your own words that most of them had never been to Salamandastron, I'm putting you in charge of the journey and in charge of this."

He produced the sword of Martin the Warrior from under his habit and presented it hilt first to Skipper. Then he spoke to both of them,

"I hope you two may lead happy and full lives, keep the sword safe and it will keep you safe. I wish you two luck."

Adena and Raynor both gasped with pleasure and simultaneously hugged Abbot Taegan tightly. Mopping away tears in his eyes, Skipper said,

"This is the greatest gift you could've gave t'us. I promise one day to return and put the sword back in its rightful place."

As final preparations were finished, they lined up in three lines facing the gates just as the sun was rising upon a new day. With the ocean of the air laced with clouds and the sun rays like a fiery trail in the sky.

A squirrel by the name of Nia started to sing soft and slow. For a squirrel, she had a very nice alto voice.

_There is a voice, that has no name_

_It comes with evening or behind the rain_

_I have no time now to stop and explain_

_I just keep moving, 'cause it helps to ease the pain_

A quartet of bass shrews and otters starts humming

_The night has music, that calls to me_

_across the canyons of an endless sea_

_I have no time now, to stop and explain_

_I just keep moving, cause it helps to ease the pain_

Abbot Taegan watched until they disappeared into a small dot on the horizon. He took out a kerchief and wiped a tear from his eye.


	5. Chapter 4

Zan ruthlessly marched his army eastward, not bothering to stop for meals. Even though he was aware of the muttering of discontent within his army, he couldn't afford anymore delays. With every stop they take, it would take at least a few hours just to get the horde moving again because of its vast size. They made good time, hitting the path shortly before evening, he allowed his exhausted creatures to rest. His cold eyes gleamed with anger at amount of traveling left before reaching the abbey. When the army had made camp, cooking fires dotted all over the vast area of land they were camped on with hordebeasts cooking a variety of things from greens to fruits to birds if they were lucky. As he ordered his soldiers to set up a tent for him, he sneaked out quietly and donned typical horde gear with a helmet. He went unknown within the ranks of his own army to hear the rebellious mutterings and possible assassination attempts. He heard many things,

"Lookit this mate, my footpaws 'as got blisters upon blisters from all the marching t'day."

"Aye mate, and just lookit this food, roasted ra'soms and apples. Yukkkk. Not even fit t'eat."

"Do you think Zan knows where he's going? Seems like we have been marching around this hell of woodlands for forever."

"Lousy gnats, been biting me all day, what am I? A rat meal for the bugs thats what."

"Tonight, lets kill Zan and take his horde for ourselves. Why should we die for him?"

Zan Shear stopped and leaned against a tree to hear the conversation

"Aye, why should we die for him, matey? What has he done for us?"

"Nuthin, that's what, nuthin except coming into our dens and beating us over the head until we agreed to join his cursed army."

"His press gang beated me in the ribs, lookit this bruise, three seasons and it still hasn't gone away."

"They threatened to cut off my stick....."

...................

"Tha jus plain wrong mate, I'm tryin to eat 'ere ye know."

"Yea mate, go ina dark hole an' neva come out. Even vermin like us have limits too"

"Ahh, firgit this mate, I say we go tonight an' see if we can beat some mercy outa him mates."

"Aye"

"Aye, an'I say we cut'ff his stick too."

"Can yew **PLEAZ** shud' up?"

Zan slipped back towards his tent and readied a reception for them.

As night fell and the sounds of the woodlands came alive, the muted murmuring around the campfires died down and slowly, the entire camp was filled with the snores of hordebeasts. Some were dreaming and acted their dreams out. One beast was fighting in his sleep, throwing punches into the air, a weasel was singing a ode to a strawberry shortcake, and a stoat just snuffled and rolled.

But three pairs of eyes were still open: Hangeye the rat, Leenu the ferret, and Gerald the weasel were still awake and waiting for complete lethargy from the army. A few hours later, deep into the night, the three of them made their move. Armed with spears and a rusty nicked sword, they padded quietly over to the main tent where Zan slept. The guards who stood by the entrance were fast asleep, probably full of nettle beer so they can last through the night. As Hangeye and Leenu went into the tent, Gerald tripped over a empty bottle and then a swift rustle sounded in the night. His two comrades turned and saw the corpse of their conspirator. Shakily they continued onward, now fearful of the night, quivering at the silence and twitching everytime they heard something; the five seconds it took to reach Zan's bed seemed like five days. When they got there, Leenu turned to Hangeye and nodded. He nodded back, ready. They both took a sharp intake of breath and stabbed with their spears at the dark shape on the cot.

As the spears went in, Leenu noticed how easily it had slipped and immediately knew that their plan had gone wrong. As Hangeye died with a soft groan, he fell onto the bed with a knife in his neck. Leenu turned to run, but when he turned around, Zan was standing there. Smirking.

"Looks like assassin got assassinated."

He swung his dagger armed hand in a diagonal arc and blood fountained from Leenu's face and neck. He fell backwards from the force and lay dying in his own pool of lifeblood, eyes quickly clouding up as he gasped his last breath and went silently to meet whoever was waiting at the depths of Hellgates.

The next morning, Zan called his soldiers together to make a speech. His voice not threatening, but soft with cold unimaginable danger behind it.

"It has come to my attention that you lot are not happy with the way things are being run hmm? You think we are lost. Some of you might think I'm deaf and stupid. Some of you might even be planning to kill me in my sleep."

He noticed the shuffle of several members, flinching like a babe being caught with cookies.

"Let this hopefully be the last time I have to deal with this personally or several of you might just end up looking like this."

Zan held up the head of Leenu, with a agonized expression frozen on his face or what's left of a face. His skin was half sliced off, hanging and flapping in the wind. Blood was slowly dripping from his left eye socket, where there was no eye. Zan spoke again,

"Consider him lucky, he was dead before all the facial surgery. If I catch anyone of you, it will not be merciful death, but the most miserable moments of your lives. Best of all, I might even let you live if you scream enough times."

He left his horde to go back to his tent, which was cleaned up, and called his captains.

"If I hear another attempt of mutiny or assassination the punishments will be on the perpetrators heads and on yours. Or off if you get my meaning. You are captains, you are responsible for maintaining discipline and order within the army. A mutineering beast reflects back on the captain if you get my meaning Dogflank."

The ferret captain gulped visibly.

"We continue marching for the Abbey of Redwall, we will stop only at night. This will separate the weak from the strong, and I have no need for the weak and useless in conquest."


	6. Chapter 5

Back at Redwall, the abbey was turning into the opposite of what it was built for. Wooden stakes and spikes pointed outwards all over the perimeter of the abbey walls. Every few feet were quivers of arrows, piles of javelins, and heaps of stones ready for shooting at the enemy. Out in the woodlands were a different matter, the moles and other volunteers had liberally sprinkled Mossflower woods in a league radius with pitfalls, stake traps, snares, logs on a pinpoint balance, hidden boulders. Then there was also the marshes east of the abbey with their own natural traps. As Foremole put it,

"Them pesky vermun ar goin' to have sum bootiful und noice surproises hurr hurr hurr"

Abbot Taegan was practicing with bow arrow, see as he was staying and wasn't much of a healer, he decided to try out archery. Surprisingly he had a natural talent for it, hitting the bullseye on his fifth try. Lady Weoflun, leader of her band of Northern Archer squirrels chuckled admiringly and said in her odd accent

"Give it fev seasons Fader Abbot and you can probably hit a dragonfly on de ving mittout even trying, dead shot you are. I take it dis means dat you are going to be fighting on de valls mitt de rest of us?"

Taegan nodded,

"Aye, I would feel pretty useless if I didn't fight alongside my creatures for the freedom of the land."

Then he did something that was out of character for an Abbot of Redwall, winking roguishly at her he said

"Besides, that's where all the action is. I'm not gonna work in the stuffy infirmary while I miss out on the fight of all seasons. As you said, I'm a dead shot."

Lady Weoflun grinned with her sharp milky white teeth and went off to attend oversee defenses from her squirrels.

Done with his archery practice, he went to the main abbey building to see how the infirmary and the kitchens were doing. With the abbey working at full capacity, it was his job to make sure that there was nothing scarce in the event of a siege. He stopped by the kitchens first where Friar Kerr was busy keeping the kitchen in order. With so many creatures seeking shelter, Friar Kerr found that he had a endless supply of good cooks willing to work in the kitchens. Abbot Taegan called him over,

"Friar Kerr, a moment please."

The shrew friar wiped his paws on a bark cloth that he always over shoulder and asked the Abbot,

"Whot do ye need Father Aboot?"

"Are the kitchens running short of food yet?"

"Nae Father Aboot, now tha' a few 'undred moeths are gone, we 'ave less t'feed."

"And your staff?"

"They're well fed an' 'appy, I 'av dem workin' on shifts so they don't git overworked."

"Good, if you do run short, now is the time to forage in the woods for extra supplies, take moles with you just to make sure you don't run into any traps. Plus, we will leave nothing for Zan's horde to eat in the event of a siege."

"Will do Father."

As he left the kitchens for the infirmary, he couldn't resist dipping his paw into the meadow cream that the friar had left on the counter. Recorder Frey, who was watching, walked beside him eyes twinkling,

"Shame on you Father Abbot, for someone of your stature, you shouldn't be pinching the friar's meadowcream."

Abbot Taegan smiled,

"Hey, I'm the Abbot, it's technically my kitchen he's working in. Besides, I'm still young, haven't you ever pinched anything in your younger seasons?"

"Aye, as I recall, Old Abbess Dunham once caught me pinching her bedsheets."

"What did you do with them?"

"Turned them into a sail of course. Nope, she was not happy with two holes in her best bedsheets. She claimed it was me that turned her gray and bent. Ahhh, Dibbun days"

When they had reached the infirmary, Brother Phis "Ick", so aptly named for his pungent medicines, was busy ministering to a unfortunate otter who had stomach cramps.

"Now drink this up, Naira, t'will help ease the cramps in your stomach."

_Bloooooargh_

"Mercy Brother, please. I rather face a band of vermin than drink your concoction."

"Nonsense, this physick is made from the best of Mossflower. Some wild ransoms, a bit of greensap curds, and my own secret ingredient."

"Secret ingredient?!?! Mercy, I beg of you, Mercy!"

"Nonsense, now say ahh and drink the rest like a good riverdog."

"Neve--"

Brother Phis took advantage of his open mouth and poured the rest of his "special" physick down Nairn's throat. He twitched like a hyper squirrel and dashed out of the infirmary, almost running into the abbot and recorder and onto the lawn where he dived into the abbey pond. Brother Phis noted it through his window.

"Hmm, another patient successfully treated and a new record. Well, that made my day."

Abbot Taegan and Recorder Frey picked themselves up from the floor where they had fallen from almost colliding with Naira. Frey remarks,

"Huh, I guess that another victim of pickled physick. You really were enjoying yourself, weren't you Phis?

"Aye, It's not everyday here in the infirmary where an otter dashes out like a boiled frog. So, how can I help you two today Abbot and Recorder?"

Abbot Taegan inquires,

"Are you running short of herbs and dressings yet Brother Phis?"

"Aye, I'm just about empty on dockleaves, bark clothes, and prickly ash bark. I am planning to go out later to collect some extra of everything for emergencies."

"Make sure you have a mole as a guide, wouldn't want my only herbalist to get snared up in the tangles of some willow."

"As you wish Father Abbot."

As Recorder Frey and Abbot Taegan walked out of the infirmary, they met Naira the physicked otter coming back holding his stomach.

"Blasted poisoner, that stuff will kill me before it cures me, mate."


	7. Chapter 6

Skipper Raynor and Adena Riverlough were in a dilemma with their traveling band. As it usually was with elders, they all thought that each knew the way to Salamanstrom and were gossiping. The Dibbuns were running around helter skelter, with their mothers running right after them. The one hundred and sixty warriors could not do anything more than trying to calm the elders or help catch the babes. Both of them were sitting in a circle with other fighters discussing on how the trip was going to be traveled and what to do if they face any foe beasts.

"The problem is 'ow to defend ever'body if we do get attacked mates. Besides Zan's army, Painted Ones roam these parts o'the Woodlands, and they are dangerous if we go anywhere near their terr'tory. Once we trespass in, it will be hard to get out in one piece. 'arn 'arts, you get 'it with one, the muscles around tha area gets deadened for an entire day.

"Wha' about using fire?"

"What about it?"

"It 'as been proven that Painty Ones are afeared of fire mate. Dey always sh'ink back everytime they see fire aroun' der homes."

"Aye, that's true, but it's also dry and hot here. One spark will cause a fire and kill all of us. Don't forget that we also want to live through this too."

"We'll be careful then, if any fire starts, quickly smother it in dirt."

"Right, after that, what about the Juska on the coast?"

"Dem Juska 'ave bin woiped owt or joined Zun's army. We'm dun need to worry 'bowt them pesky vermunt."

"So, all we need to do is get down to the coast and we'd be home free then?"

"Aye, that seems 'bout right."

Skipper tapped his rudder impatiently,

"So what are we doing around here then mates? Let's go catch those babes and be on our way."

Soon after, the entire band of creatures were marching west with hopes high and confident that they will get through the Painted One's land. As they marched, the green pines of the Painted Ones became clearer and clearer until they could see the green gloom the overlapping tree branches created among the pines. As they neared Adena warned them,

"Everyone will need to be quiet now, anyone make a sound and we're all dead, got that mates?"

A chorus of murmured ayes answered him. To the babes, Skipper put on a scowl and said in a gruff voice,

"If you liddle scallywags make one sound, I'll tan your tails so hard, you won't be able to sit 'til next ten seasons come and you will be on pot washing duties, forever."

The Dibbuns promptly locked their mouths and threw away the key.

As Skipper and Adena entered the pines, Skipper drew the sword of Martin the Warrior and Adena armed herself with a double pointed otter javelin and a torch. They entered the pine quietly like oiled silk neither of them speaking and only communicating with signals. A wave of a paw or a twitch with the sword was all they needed. They were in their for a few hours and things were going well; they were almost out until an elder tripped and fell onto a hollow branch.

_Crrrrunccccchhhhhhh_

Then the trees began to scream with the voices of the Painted Ones. Pebbles shot from slings rained down like, well, rain, and their blowdarts were whistling from every angle, striking beast and tree alike.

"YaaYaa, killem all, dey be deadbeasts now, ohohoho yisyis."

As a group of warriors sent up arrow and stones, they felled Painted Ones by the dozens, but for every one they lost another ten sprung up. The fight was starting to go towards the Painted Ones, when the squirrel named Nia, shouted

_Vallliiiidussss_

and started to thrust at the Painted Ones with a torch in her paw.

The Painted Ones immediately scattered and screeching for their fear of fire was like facing a giant adder with nothing but your bare paws.

As the fighters broke and made a run for the exit, they picked up whatever friendly dead they came across. Then they made it, with the sun kissing on their faces and the dust making a little cloud by their footpaws, they shouted with joy and stopped running. Skipper rushed at Nia,

"Harharr, that was a reckless thing t'do Scout, but it worked. Nice job mate."

Nia smiled sadly,

"Aye, that it was Skip, but not everybody made it out safely."

She pointed at the row of dead that they managed to get out, some elders, babes, and fighters.

Skipper Raynor face was somber as he replied,

"Before we line up again, we'll make sure to give these beasts a proper burial and pay our last respects."

As willing paws dug holes in the ground with spear and sword, they gently lowered the bodies into the makeshift tombs and covered the burials with dirt again. Nia sang a short verse

_For the ones who died_

_Let us not cry_

_It is surest_

_That they'll go in peace_

_T'the dark forest_

The lines formed up again and marched silently out of the woodlands. A few days later they reached the Western coast and the vast endless ocean, a first experience for most of them. As they whooped and exclaimed delight, sinister eyes twinkled from a fair distance away, watching the traveler's progress across the coast.


	8. Chapter 7

Dawn broke slowly over the shore and dune. Dissipating the night's fog lazily, sunbeams poked holes in the curtain of gray swirls. Two toads scouts, each a fine specimen of their kind, hopped quickly across the misty shore. Keeping their tridents at an angle so they don't trip, both toads slowed and saluted into the fog. Out of nowhere a voice boomed out,

"_Grrokk_ This is the land of the Great Toad WartHorn. Speak to identify. Speak or die. _Krrr_"

The two toads said monotonously, as they if they had practiced too much, the required greeting.

"_Grrroikk_ All hail the Great Toad, may his warts grow always and his enemies become fly food."

The smaller of the two toads croaked to himself quietly,

"_Rrrebb_ And may his face be bloated with swamp muck."

A trident immediately came out of the fog and stabbed the insolent toad in his throat, blood squirted everywhere as the trident cut off his airway and causing blood to fill his lungs. Drowning him in his own life liquid, he emitted a gurgled croak and fell silent forever. His partner flinched at his sudden death turned his attention back to fog in front of him. Two score toads came out carrying a what seemed to be a large toad sitting on a throne made out of many strands of dried reeds twisted together on a wooden platform. As the litter stopped, the toad jumped from his chair and approached the lone toad. The scout felt himself shake in apprehension with meeting the toad king as he should have been. The toad king was easily the biggest toad in many seasons, with dark green warts covering his entire body and four growthlike horns protruding majestically over his brow. When he spoke, it was heavy with undisguised scorn,

"_Rrebb_ What brings such a lowly creature to me, even though you're a scout, you're still at the bottom of toads. Most scouts are. _Krroikk_ Make your report and if it does not satisfy me, you'll die."

The toad scout, who name was Kroib, told his king what he and his recently deceased partner had seen,

"To the south of here, there are hundreds of creatures, mostly babes and elders. They are sparsely protected and would feed us for many, many seasons. _Grroikk_"

WartHorn thought about this for a moment and with a pleased tone said,

"_Groikk_ This is good news. I will let you live so you can command some toads of your own. Gather up my toads and attack. We will have food for many seasons."

The traveling group was making good time with Salamadastrom less than a league away when Skipper Raynor suddenly stopped moving and stood stock still. Ears twitching and some sort of sixth sense tingling, he stood as motionless as a statue for few minutes. Nia the squirrel scout noticed this and asked,

"What's up Skip?"

Then breaking out of his reverie, he turned around and saw thousands of toads rushing at them with tridents and flails evident. He immediately started to giving out orders,

"Archers, break out your bows and string them, slingers start finding good size rocks and arm your slings. You Guosim front and center, rapiers out. Adena, take a score of fighters and the entire unarmed group. Start running for Salamandastrom."

Adena turned and began to ask,

"Why...?"

Skipper rushed to her and put a paw on her mouth,

"No questions asked, just get to Salamandastrom as quickly as you can. There is going to be lot of blood that will spill soon."

He took his paw away and ran out to the group of fighters he had just organized,

"Form up and starting marching the way we came, archers at the ready! Slingers, give them a volley after archers shoot, alternate!"

Adena stood there for a moment and then started to run after him, armed with a javelin to help him fight. Skipper noticed the disturbance behind him and turned. Halting her as she ran past him,

"Stop! Adena, what are you doing?"

Thrashing with determination, she responded,

"I'm going to help you fight those slimy amphibians; it's also my duties as a leader to not abandon those I care about to the battle."

"And what about the babes then? What about the elders? It's also a leader's duty to protect the innocents from harm and lead them. Since I won't be able to lead them, you must take my place."

Adena gazed at him with tears in her beautiful eyes. She reached up slowly and passionately kissed him. Raynor returned the favor as fierce as he could. Both of them held that embrace for a good while then released each other. With foreheads touching, he murmured,

"I'll be alright, just get them to safety. Just run. NOW!"

Without looking back, she barked a command at the waiting group and they set off for Salamandastrom at a swift trot. Raynor watched them go, then unsheathed the sword of Martin the Warrior, and swung it in readiness. The blade almost shimmering with desire to draw blood.


	9. Chapter 8

The shore began to fill with the thousands of toads, each fat, ungainly, and heavily armed. The air itself seemed to thrum with the intensity of their baritone croaks. As the toads advanced, WartHorn voice bellowed,

"_Grroikk_, teach those food slaves the meaning of fear my toads. Capture if you can, kill if you can't. That is my will. _Rrebb_"

Skipper Raynor gritted his teeth as he beheld the toads and heard the toad king's intent,

"Great more scum, at the ready mates. Attention to the ranks! Archers to my left, slingers to my right, split yourself's into ranks of two. They want food? Let's give them a taste of rocks and arrow. Fire!"

Like a badly tuned banjoes, arrows came shooting with points cutting the wind. Slings and stones making a deep thrumming sound as they were swung and thrown. The two score ranged fighters, released their burdens.

"First rank, shoot an' drop back to reload! Second rank, shoot an' drop to reload! Make every missile count!"

The tactic worked like a charm, salvo after slavo of arrows and stones hit the advancing toad army with deadly accuracy, with toads falling by the scores, they pressed on, made brave by sheer numbers. Area by area, they made steady progress, often stumbling over dead comrades.

Skipper decided the toads were close enough, he drew the sword of Martin the Warrior.

"Get ready! Blades out, if you have no blade, use the slings as nooses and bows as staffs! This is it me matey's we fight or die today!"

_Chaaaarrrrrrrggggeeeeee_

Like a single beast, the eight score fighters sped into the toad ranks, dealing death whereever they went. Blades flashing arcing in bloodthirsty delight. With every toad killed, a gushes of blood came foun out and ten more toads. Fighting on, the woodlanders kept fighting, blood pooling over their footpaws, toads piling higher and higher. Guts splashing and splattering as the toads died.

Despite the bravery of the fighter's charge, it would be clear that they would be overwhelmed by the numbers of toads. With battlers falling to the deadly range of tridents and flails, Skipper's command continued to dwindle until there was only two dozen of his original force left. Covered in cuts, wounds, and suffering a trident prong lodged in his shoulder, Raynor continued to fight on, the sword in paws twirling skillfully, but becoming heavier with each passing moment.

Suddenly, a warcry sounded out of thin air

_Eulaliiiiiiiaaaaaaaaa! Give'em blood'n'vinegar!_

Scores of hares crashed into both flanks of the toad army, each hare armed with lances, javelins, and slings filled with metal bits. They battered at the masses of natterjacks, kicking expertly with their powerful hindlegs. So fierce was their counter attack that toads were beaten down in seconds.

Croaking in alarm, King WartHorn gathered ten of toads around him and tried to make a run for it. Skipper saw him escaping and instantly went after them. Striking down the toads of WartHorn's guard with frightening speed, Skipper flung himself at the toad king. He tried to fight the maddened otter, but to no avail. When WartHorn tried stabbing with his trident, Skipper blocked it and then swung upwards, chopping off the head of both the trident and the king. The body tipped over on to its side, blood squirted out from the neck of the now deceased toad, and on to the surrounding sand, staining it red.

Skipper toppled forward with the force of the swing, almost falling. Stabbing the sword into the ground to steady himself, he crouched on his haunches, breathing heavily, exhausted from all the fighting and subsequent running to catch up to cowardly toad king. Catching his breath, he turned around and walked back to the battlefield where there was no toad in sight, either slain or running.

With hares walking around attending to the wounded and checking to make sure that all toads were dead, Skipper made his way through the throng of hares to biggest hare of them all.

"Major Bainbridge Citlya, good t'see ye me old matey. Ye really pulled our chestnuts out of th' fire back there. We were just about t'go under mate."

Colonel Bainbridge or Bain, as he was known, beamed down at him.

"Skipper Raynor, thought you died ages ago, wot! Got a promotion y'know, known as colonel nowadays. I see that you managed to get y'self into another pickle, wot wot! "

Skipper Raynor nodded,

"Aye, ran into some toads, slimy things they are mate. Wanted to eat us, especially that toad king. Hah! Gave him a taste of Martin's sword instead. The score or so fighters you see here is all thats left of eighty good beasts. Did you at Salamandastrom receive our creatures? I sent our innocents running for yore mountain so they can avoid the bloodshed here mate.

Colonel Bain patted his back,

"Of course we did old chap, how couldn't we? Once we had all of them inside and the story explained, I immediately gathered our fighters and went charging back here, wot! By the left, we couldn't see you chaps at first 'cause of the toads, but once we did the ole pincer movement and broke their flanks, poof, there you were, wot wot wot."

Raynor smiled,

"How about an otter named Adena? Is she alright?"

"As a matter of fact, a pretty otterlady insisting to come with us, but I refused on the grounds that she was tired and needed rest. Why Skip?"

"Oh nothing, but I'm probably going to get an earful from her later. Can you get a medic here and help patch me up? Sorta growing out of my skin here and there mate."

Colonel Bain gave a booming laugh,

"Aye, we'll get you a healer Skip, wot! Gherkin Sage! Front and center! We have an otter here who needs a new skin, better bring the rusty's wot!"

"Aye Colonel! But I ran out of sharp ones, how about jagged?"

Skipper Raynor jumped up,

"On second thought, I like my skin. What do you know? Er..haha, we dun need the medic anymore?

Bain pulled him down,

"Nonsense Skip, sit down, he's the best medic we have. You'll feel no pain."

Skipper Raynor wasn't too sure.

Later, after many grunts of pain as Gherkin sewed up his wounds, he was marching towards Salamandastrom sipping at a fragrant cordial, feeling no pain whatsoever. He talked with Medic Sage,

"Guess colonel was right, I'm not feeling any pain, whats in here mate?"

Gherkin smiled knowingly,

"Special old berry'n'pear wine with some cowslip an' royal fern essence old chap. That stuff will make you sleep tonight wot!"

Skipper nodded heavily, already dozing lightly from the potion's effects.


	10. Chapter 9

The horde of Zan Shear marched wearily through Mossflower, having been driven by their cold and harsh leader, none dared to complain of their aches lest they wanted to "stay" where they stood. They kept marching until they hit a clearing with a few tombstones scattered about; in their rush to stop and rest, some of the vermin knocked over a sign that had read:

_Formerly the Church of Saint Ninians_

Zan was sitting in his tent, with his back to the fire. He was in a irritated mood, news that had been delivered to him by his trackers, or what remained of his trackers, was not ideal for his plans. Knowing full well of the history of past Redwall battles, he expected them to fortify the walls, gates, and other structure needs, but what he didn't count on was the laying of various, deadly traps around the area as the abbeybeasts had not used that tactic before. He snorted quietly to himself,

"Four and a half score trackers and only sixteen make it back. They haven't even penetrated the middle of those woods. This was unexpected, clever clever woodlanders."

He thought about sending parties into the woods to find and set off the traps, but then realized that no one beast in his horde was skilled enough to find traps laid down by creatures who know Mossflower better than the back of their paws. He gave another irritated snort, the only other option was to send soldiers marching blindly into the woods and set them all off at once and this proved the most problematic to Zan. Though his horde was the largest ever assembled in the history of the Earth, marching through booby-trapped woods was one thing even a retarded commander wouldn't do. Not only would hordebeasts refuse to enter, the results after such a march would deplete his horde by a sixth which is a good slice of army numbers. Realizing that he had no other option, he decided to keep this life-threatening piece of information to himself and slay the rest of his trackers as so they wouldn't warn the rank and file.

Like the intelligent and analyzing bastard of a leader he was, he planned ahead to when his troops march out of the woods, slightly depleted, but still battle ready. Putting down several plans to try to penetrate the abbey, he got up and walked out of his tent to where six guards stood around. Calling one of them, he ordered the guardbeast to fetch a few beasts,

"I want you to seek out Captains Fligere, Druge, Dogpaw, and Limbflank and bring them here. Now."

The guard saluted and went about to his assigned duties.

A short time later, the four captains Zan requested were sited around him in a semi-circle listening intently as their chieftain explained his various plans and pointing at a map at where they were going to be implemented.

" The main gate is going to be one of the most well defended positions at that abbey, so we'll strike there **and** at three other secondary gates which will be smaller, but less defended. Diggings, we will dig under the abbey and when we are through, launch a surprise attack on the wall, that will divide their attention and allow more success for both of these plans to work. We will also need to build siege ladders that reach up to the walls."

"Fligere, gather up a hundred hordebeasts and start looking for the thickest tree you can find. When you do find one cut it down and drag it back here, that will be our battering ram for the main gate, then go back and find three more trees. We will also need some beasts to create wheels for the battering ram, see to it. Druge, see if you can find some ferrets that can dig, find at least two score and report back here. Dogpaw, you and Limbflank will work on the siege ladder, make it strong enough to support at least a few dozen hordebeasts. Get to it, if I see any laggers, tails will be stumpened if you get my meaning. We will attack in five days"

Unknowing to the rest of the horde and Zan, the abbey Scouts were perched high upon various oaks and cedar trees that surrounded the Saint Ninians area, listening and watching. Two squirrels in particular were hovering above Zan's tent drinking in every word being said. When the meeting was finished, the two scouts rushed back to their commander, Shumard Shade and reported of what they heard. Shumard took in this information and along with the two scouts, flew through the upper foliages of the arboreals to inform Redwall of the planned offense.

Abbot Taegan was once again practicing his archery as he had finished his duties early once again. Getting better with each shot, he could now shoot twelve arrows in a row and hit dead center each time. Lying back onto to the green swarth of the abbey grounds, he took a rare time to look up at the sky and reflect. Underneath all his maturity and solemn graciousness, he just wanted to have fun like other creatures his age. He heaved a sigh, knowing it was impossible with his duties and the present situation. Being Father Abbot may have its privileges, but there were downsides to it. He brushed the matter from his mind and went back to staring at the dusky sky.

With the sun setting, dipping below the western plateau, the sky extricated all of its colors of the evening sky. Rivers of purple winded lazily around wisps of clouds, shades of gold flanked the sides, and valleys of crimson appeared here and there. Birds, far off in the distance gliding on the thermals, the view could make a beast forget all his troubles.

As he got up, the abbey bells began to toll, not slowly like it usually does to signal the fall of night, but loudly, rapidly. He wondered what was going on and immediately headed in the direction of the main abbey building. The two scouts and the commander were there reporting the events at Saint Ninians, though squirrel commander stayed silent, the two scouts were babbling it out.

"Over by Saint Nins, there is the horde of Zombies, each beast armed to the fangs."

"More beasts than you can shake a score of sticks and then some"

"They are going to attack in five days, we know 'cause we heard their leader, Zanthingy saying it."

"Yea and--_mfffff_"

Lady Weoflun had creeped up behind them and and muffled them with her bushy tail,

"You have done vell, let your commander finish up de briefing vhile you tvo get some food from de kitchens, I heard dey dat dey just took out a mint and leek turnover. Its fresh and hot mitt gravy leaking from de sides. Sounds good ya?"

The two scouts nodded energetically and as soon as she lifted her tail from their mouths, they dashed out of the room towards the kitchens. She nodded,

"Dat should keep dem occupied for a little vhile, continue mitt your report commander"

Commander Shade stepped up and took the floor,

"As my scouts were saying, the horde of Zan is camped at what was formerly Saint Ninians. For those of you who are new to this area, it is about a league and a half to our southeast. He sent some scouts into our area to spy on out abbey, but got more than they bargained for; Zan realizes he has no other choice but to march his army into the woods as there is no way around it. Even so, they will still make it through and be thirsty for our blood, especially if had hurt them. From what the scouts heard, they are going to use battering rams, tunnels, and siege ladders to penetrate the walls. They will try to hit us from every possible angle they can think of, its my opinion that we advance against them first with a guerrilla strike taking out key weapons and leaders, if any try to attack us, we'll just jump off into the trees and see if they dare to follow."


	11. Chapter 10

Daybreak came fast and early the next day, with light sunbeams playfully chasing off the night sky, the sun bathed the dawn with bright flashes of quivering gold and flaming orange, some reflecting off the thick white clouds, it was a kaleidoscope of colors. Larks and woodpigeons huffily trilled the first notes of their morning songs unleashing a rapture of noise in the surrounding area.

Foremole Redlin commented,

"Gurt noisy burdbags, hurr"

Squirrels were on the path in front of the abbey, checking bows and quivers while a few of them made sure that the canteens of oil some squirrels were carrying were secure. In a joint mission between Weoflun and Shade, both had decided that for the a more quicker and less deadly, for them, attack, only squirrels will be part of the strike. Both knew what to do and were experienced in coordinating joint forces. Abbot Taegan was also there, making sure there was an ample supply of whatever they needed. When all was done and packed, he spoke to Weoflun and Shade,

"Good luck and give them something to think about."

The squirrel leaders tipped their heads in acknowledgment and bounded off into the trees along with their commands. All that could be heard was the rustling of leaves as the squirrels bounded from tree to tree in the direction of Saint Ninians.

________________________________________________________________________

The camp at Saint Ninians was quiet with horde beasts snuffling in their sleep, with campfires at ember stages, it was the perfect time for a surprise attack. In the background, outlines of the battering trunks and the siege ladder were clearly visible in the early morning sky. As the squirrel strike force arrived at the camp, they saw that all was silent, taking a quick time to revise their plans slightly, Lady Weoflun and Commander Shade was discussing quietly on how this should be approached,

"We should slip quietly deep into the camp and kill the Zan and his captains, the horde will be leaderless and disorganized by the time they wake up."

"Nay, ve should go to de siege veapons and soak dem mitt oil as it vas our original plan, ve vill take care of de leaders after."

"Ok, how about this we split the squad into two and we each take care of our objectives."

"Gutt, lets do it nov b'vore de horde vakes up."

________________________________________________________________________

Lady Weoflun slowly crept her way between the soldiers, as did the rest of her command, treading quietly they reached the siege weapons. As the squirrels with the oil flasks unpacked their cargo, Lady Weoflun nodded for them to continue with their work, the rest stood guard, bows at the ready. The others started to soak the rams and ladder with oil, making sure they get multiple layers of grease into the wooden frames.

Commander Shade was with his command, also tip pawing quietly between hordebeasts, he signaled to the others

_Take out daggers, slice the throat of any captain you see, be careful_

They all responded with a wave of their paws and went slowly to take out their targets. Throughout the area, muffled sounds of metal slicing flesh and choked sounds of death.

________________________________________________________________________

Zan was twitching in his bed, from a fevered dream he was having. Screams of agonized pain echoed throughout his mind, his captains rising from the ground, hides decaying, fur matting off, flesh extruding a rotten odor. Their throats were slit deeply yet they were making a moaning sound that was unnatural. Then bodies of all the woodlanders he killed had also risen up and just stared at him with deathly intensity. Never have felt this type of panic in the longest time, he tried to throw his daggers at them, but all it did was just pierce their body with no signs of even noticing the attack. They just kept staring at him with those dead eyes, the chilling dead stare. Suddenly he was facing himself, except it was like a color negative and his clone was armed with a bow. As he raised his bow up, Zan saw that there was an arrow on it, panic flashed in his eyes, as the clone paws let go of the string with a ominous twang.

Zan shot up from his bed like a rocket breathing heavily, sweat drenching his brow and the covers. As he got up, he noticed a beats holding a dagger ready to kill, but Zan was faster, he whipped out his dagger and gored his assailant in the eye. The squirrel screamed aloud in pain as his eye was destroyed by the dagger, blood was leaking from the socket in rivers. Zan snarled and brandished the dagger at the squirrel's heart. He died instantly without a sound more.

The squirrel's scream had wakened the entire camp and the hordebeasts noticed the squirrels in their midst, both sides froze. The Zan came rushing out of his tent shouting,

"GET THEM!!!"

As the vermin flourished their blades, Commander Shade's command ran out towards the siege weapons. A voice shouted,

"FIRE!"

A dozen vermin went down, but the rest of the horde continued irregardless, brave by numbers. Lady Weoflun had her squirrels fire again before deciding to make a tactical retreat. As she signaled to back off, the squirrels vaulted into the trees and retreated. Most of the vermin stopped after the squirrels had retreated, but a score of so, seeking to become captains continued on into the woods.

They ran for a little while before stopping. Suddenly several screams rang out, as the vermin ran to investigate, more screams were heard. As they stopped to look, they were then confronted with a gruesome scene; several of the vermin had fallen to the woodland traps.

A dead stoat was caught in the embrace of a wooden trap with spikes facing inward, he was pierced from both sides at chest height with blood leaking from his gaping wounds, a pool of blood filling up the pit he was in. Another victim was a ferret whose head was hiding under a hefty log that had bloody white bond shards scattered about. Then there was the rat who's face got smashed in by a rock after stepping on a tripwire and another victim was a weasel who got impaled by a sharpened stake, blood from him was seeping around the shaft and rolling down his body in fat drops.

Now the vermin were afraid to take one step more as half their number had already died from the traps. A squirrel asked Lady Weoflun,

"Marm, should we put them out of their misery?"

Weoflun looked down at the vermin from her position, making her decision,

"No, let dem stay dere, dey have no vhere to go, if dey try to step a pav in eider direction dey vill be dead anyvays. Let dem put deir ovn misery out."

She made her way through the tree limbs back in the direction of the abbey and her squirrels followed suit, none of them feeling pity or sorrow for the trapped vermin.


	12. Chapter 11

Zan was in a seething rage, but did not rage out on his soldiers like most commanders do. In fact his face was passive, showing no snarl or emitting any sound at all, but his eyes had grown harsher. There was a dangerous gleam in them that if looks could kill, Zan wouldn't even have to raise his head at the victim. He was sitting by the fire, crosslegged and released a sigh of anger, a harsh bitter sound. He released another breath, trying to calm himself down before he had a stroke, and rubbed his brows, a habit he was picking up. _Twenty-six captains assassinated and a attempted assassination against me, bold woodlanders. Reports also say they were by the siege weapons, some squirrels guarding while others did something to the weapons._

Little did he know that the squirrels had soaked the weapons in oil because the oil had been absorbed into the wooden frames and left no trace behind.

_Twenty six of mine lost and one of theirs dead, yeah that is real good start to this campaign. I need some new captains._

Zan got up and stepped outside his tent. Watching hordebeasts pass by occupied by duties given to them by the remaining captains, he stopped two. A muscular rat with a black eyepatch and armed with a lochaber and a female stoat who had a shield slung over her shoulder and a rapier at her side. They both saluted,

"Lord!"

Zan nodded approvingly, "What are your names?"

"Tiroth, sir"

"Daea, lord"

He threw both of them elaborately ornate red metal clips had such designs on them it looked like red silk fluttering in the breeze.

"Attach these to your weapons and shields, they are a symbol of your rank, now I want you two to go into my horde and seek out other possible captains, only capable ones who can fight and think. Anyone less, I will kill because they would be below standard, so if it's your dumb mates, you can say goodbye to them if they come for captaincy."

They both saluted again and left. Using their new found powers, they both began to roar out orders to the rank and files.

"Stand up straight soldier or you'll feel my blade in your back!"

"Set up a tent and bring food, its time for a little test."

Zan turned back into his tent, and went to stare at the squirrel corpse that was still there, by the medals and pins, he was obviously a commander. Zan kicked the body contemptuously and ordered one of his guards to dispose of it. When the guard was gone, Zan sat back down around his fire and breathed , his mind focused on the dream last night. What did it mean? Why did it occur? He shut his eyes trying to get rid of the images. Then he heard a piercing shriek, similar to the sounds of his dream. He swiftly turned around, eyes roving, scanning the horde, but no beast seemed to have noticed the sound at all as they continued with their tasks. He turned back around and gritted his teeth.

_Get out of my head._

________________________________________________________________________

As Lady Weoflun and her squirrels emerged from the trees of the woodland, Abbot Taegan and Logalog Caseb were waiting for them. The squirrels were flushed with victory, but Lady Weoflun was somber as she came into view, Taegan immediately knew that something had gone wrong with the raid.

"Lady Weoflun, what happened? You and your squirrels are clearly victorious, yet you have the face of a dark cloud. Did something go wrong?"

Lady Weoflun, took a deep breath, looked up, and exhaled it into the sky

"During de raid, me and Commander Shade split our forces up. My group going after de siege veapons vhile Shumard's group assassinated de captain's. All vas going vell until Zan voke up and killed de commander. His yell vakened de entire horde and ve had to get our tails out of dere, ve couldn't even get de body back for proper burials. All in all, it vas a successful attack, but at a high price."

She glanced at her jubilant squirrels,

"I have not told dem yet. It 'vill be hard on dem."

Logalog Caseb laid a paw on her shoulder,

"Do you want us to break it for them, we will be gentle and respectful of the commander's death."

"No, its my duty as a leader to relay de dead of a fellov officer."

As she went off to tell her squirrels of the death of Commander Shumard, the Abbot and Logalog went back to the abbey, discussing in hushed tones of the days to come,

"Hm, everything is not without price eh Caseb?"

"Aye, thats the truth of it mate, I wonder how many creatures will have to die before all this done."

"I wonder what we will have to give up for the price of freedom."


	13. Chapter 12

Skipper Raynor strode through the cavernous halls of Salamandastron, pondering at what may be happening at, his now far off home, Redwall Abbey. It nagged him to think that while he was here in the safety of the mountain, his friends may be in mortal danger. As a Skipper for Mossflower and friend of the Abbot, it was his natural instinct to worry about others.

He paced back and forth in his torrider, still deep in thought. A window was also on the side of the hall and everytime Raynor walked past, the sun outside got lower and lower and lower until it had finally set over the horizon and into other lands. Adena came from the mess hall on the lower levels bearing a tray of food, anxiety written on her face. Raynor noticed this, "I see that you have also been worrying about home." Adena furrowed her brows together, "What is home? There is no place left for me to stay permanently anymore, my holt's gone, half of my family is dead, all that I have left are a few families I have picked up and my warriors back at the abbey." Raynor smiled grimly, "The times we live in, ain't it great? You are also forgetting one thing." Adena raised her right eyebrow, "Oh?"

"You also have me as well"

Her face relaxed and she smiled blissfully, "Out of all the luck you're still here." Raynor shoved her playfully, "Ah away with you, what did you bring me?" Adena brought the tray of food forward, "Let's see, some sweet oats with cinnamon and hazelnuts baked into it, a wedge of greensap milk cheese, baked apples with honey, and mint tea to wash it all down. Would that be enough?" Raynor spoke around a already mouth full of food, "Aye." Adena laughed, "You silly riverdog, don't talk with your mouth full." He swallowed his food, "Aye Miz Riverlough, but tell you what, I won't talk around my food if you eat with me." She giggled, "Oh you great big dibbun, you're a fully grown Skipper not a six seasons old cub, ah well, gotta make some concessions." With that they both began eating with great enjoyment of the food and the presence of each other.

Later that evening, the both of began wandering around Salamandastom, visiting every level and eventually making their way to the top, where they sat on the edge overlooking the land. The pale moon gave off silvers of silver light everytime a cloud passed in front of it, alternatively turning the air silver and dark grey. Then the sky ran out of clouds for the moon to play with and the moon just shone unobstructed giving everything an aurora of lustrous gleams.

Adena leaned comfortably against Skipper as he reached over her shoulders and held her, for a long time, they both just sat there admiring the view. Raynor's eyes began to droop with tiredness from the battle and worry as he started to doze; as soon as he reached the dark of sleep, grains of what appeared to be colored sand started to swirl out of nowhere in his mind's eye. As the sands slowly accumulated, Martin the Warrior began to appear until his being had fully formed. Although his lips did not move, Skipper Raynor heard his voice echo within his mind.

_When evil falls so will Redwall, but sacrifice does not come without a price. Dame Fortune will have to give up something as well too, spilled blood will continue in new blood. I will see you beyond this world soon, bearer of my sword."_

With that, the wind picked up as Martin began to fade away, as the wind blows. Then all was silent as Raynor was now alone in the darkness of his mind. "Wake up Raynor, wake up, before you slump any further and over the edge." He heard Adena's voice and felt her shaking his arm. He cracked open his eyes and mumbled, "Say what?"

"I said that you are going to fall off mountain and fly like a bird."

He smiled dozily, "Really?"

"Of course not, c'mon get up and I'll bring to your room."

Raynor felt himself being lifted and his legs automatically walking. With his arm around her shoulder, together they both walked back down to the lower levels. As they were walking, a new view of the world suddenly opened up to his eyes. Everything seemed so vibrant now, every smell, sight, and touch was magnified beyond normal. The torches in the hallway flared brightly and he can see the different flames within the fire, he could hear conversations faintly through the thick walls of Salamandastrom.

Then, he glanced at Adena and he felt his heart rate go up a notch. Her sable fur now glowed with a dark luster, her eyes glittered brightly with the color of emeralds, her body gave off a scent that was exotic mix of dragonfruit and hyacinths. He breathed out, "You're beautiful." She flashed him a pearly smile, "You're just tired. We're here." She pushed open the door to his room and they went inside. Skipper then felt a surge of lust, turned around to Adena and immediately embraced her in a long kiss. Adena stiffened with surprise then relaxed as she enjoyed the moment, still in the happiness of kissing, she eased the door closed with her footpaws and it shut with a quiet click.


End file.
